


Have You Tried Turning Him Off and On Again?

by AllThingsGeeky



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Tony Stark, Major Character Injury, Medical Jargon, Medical Trauma, Tony Stark acting as Peter Parker’s parental figure, Tony Stark has a heart and it’s not functioning at optimal capacity, Tony Stark is an idiot, peter parker to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThingsGeeky/pseuds/AllThingsGeeky
Summary: Tony is an utter idiot and it’s up to Peter to save him (oh how the tables have turned..)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	Have You Tried Turning Him Off and On Again?

Where are they-  _ where are they?!  _ He’d left them here somewhere. So much for keeping them in a fucking safe spot- safe from everyone including him apparently! 

Tony growled frustratedly as he flipped up the couch cushions on the ship. He’d already raided the bunk room and the cockpit, and now he was holding everyone up. 

Fuck, he wasn’t usually the late one- fashionably late for social events yes but not while they were on call. And this was meant to be a big job. They’d been called back from a mission a day early when they got intel on an incoming threat back home in New York. They’d rushed to finish that job, flown back and were meant to be piling in a van and driving to the attack site but Tony  _ couldn’t fucking find them.  _

Bathroom- maybe, maybe they were in the bathroom. Fucking Steve and his constant tidying up. Tony ran in there and started searching through the cabinets, under the sink, hell he even checked the trash. But he couldn’t find them anywhere. Fuck this was bad, this was really bad. He’d already forgotten about them for the past two days- he couldn’t do this again not without-

“Come on Starky we ain’t got all day!” Clint yelled, snapping Tony away from his thoughts. 

“I’m looking for something you prick.” Tony snapped back. He glanced around again, feeling flustered and dizzy, not the best way to feel when he was about to go into a fight. But he couldn’t think straight; he  _ needed  _ to find them. 

He was about to admit his blunder, for once in his life Tony was about to admit he needed help, that he’d fucked up, that he needed a break- but Clint called again. 

“You can do your hair in the car, just hurry the fuck up.” The archer chuckled. Not meanly. But Tony didn’t appreciate it. 

Letting out a noise of frustration Tony slammed his hands against the counter, standing up fully. As much as his back was up over being teased Clint was right, they did need to get going like  _ now.  _ Besides the fact they were on a time crunch with the threat itself they were meant to be meeting the kid there; and god help them if Peter got there first. Last time that happened he’d ran in all guns blazing and ended up with a nasty concussion and a broken femur- and Tony ended up with another bucket full of guilt to add to his collection. He wasn’t about to let that happen again. 

No, they had to get going. He’d be fine for a couple more hours. Sure he probably shouldn’t exert himself too much, but they had plenty of manpower. Not only Peter but Bucky, Rhodey and Sam were meant to be joining them too, Tony’s job was more technical. He’d stick to the sidelines, stay out of the action as best he could and get all the tech diffused. Hopefully the quicker he got that done the quicker they could get out of there- and he could go home and finally-

“What’re you looking for?” Steve asked from the doorway, making Tony jump slightly. Steve’s frown deepened, Tony usually wasn’t that skittish, and he certainly seemed determined to find whatever he was looking for. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Tony muttered bitterly as he side stepped past Steve, not sparing a look at the others as he made his way to the van. 

Steve followed after him, recognising that look. “Are you sure? You look-“

“I’m sure, we’re on Barton’s time anyway so obviously that’s more fucking important.” Tony snapped venomously, making Steve take a step back and the others give each other uncomfortable glances. 

He knew he wasn’t being entirely fair but he was mad- mad at himself for losing the fucking pills- and mad that he needed them in the first place. He wasn’t just mad he was- fuck it, he was embarrassed okay? He knew logically he shouldn’t be but, well, it was one thing people knowing he had a heart condition, but it was another them  _ witnessing it.  _ He didn’t want people seeing him all weak and vulnerable. And you know what? Fuck Clint for making fun of him. He was  _ about to  _ admit what was wrong but he had to go and use his vanity against him. Everyone knew that Tony’s vanity was just a thin veil masking his self esteem issues so for Clint to make a joke about that either pissed him off. 

Or maybe he was just pissed off in general. Maybe the heart palpitations he was experiencing were being misconstrued as anxiety- or maybe he was anxious about how dizzy he was suddenly feeling. It was hard to distinguish what symptoms were physical and what were in his head- and he couldn’t establish cause and effect, which for a scientist was incredibly irritating. 

He must have looked irritable too, since Bruce was brave enough to address him as they were driven to the site. “Tony are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Tony said shortly. 

Again, glances were exchanged among the rest of the group, all of them trying to gauge whether it was worth pushing Tony further. His mood had changed rather rapidly, which was never a good sign, though they had tried to put it down to the change in plans it seemed more than that. He was bouncing his leg, which again, wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t his usual rhythmic tapping. It was shaky and disjointed and, those with keener hearing noticed, so was his breath. He’d been staring intently out of the window to avoid eye contact with anyone for the whole ride. 

Clint was the one who decided to speak next. “You sure?”

“What do you care?” Tony sneered, for the first time tearing his gaze away from the window to glare at Clint. 

The archer didn’t rise to it though. He simply shrugged. “Well obviously I do or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m fine.” Tony said under his breath as he lowered his eyes to the floor. The rest of the journey was tense and silent, Tony making a concerted effort to appear normal. Despite his anxiety he managed to still his leg, despite the twitching in his lungs he managed to slow his shaky breathing, he even managed to sit up straight and briefly feign his usual confidence. As soon as the van came to a stop he hopped out of the car, greeting Sam and getting the most important status report. “Where’s my kid?” 

“Happy’s got him, he’s meeting us there.” Sam said, gesturing to Rhodey who was the one tasked with babysitting Peter for the first half of the fight. 

Tony nodded and let Steve take over from there. He stood to the back of the group whilst they relayed tactics to one another. Usually he’d be in the thick of it but today he didn’t care. He wasn’t playing a team sport, he had his job to do and that was it; sort the electronics, make sure his kid did as he was told and try not to have a heart attack. He had a lot on his plate. But with Rhodey keeping an eye on Pete he breathed a small sigh of relief. That meant he could kind of lean into his sickness without having to worry about keeping appearances up for the little one. Though he still had to be mindful that his coworkers could possibly pick up on it. He took a brief break, heading back to the van so he could step out of his suit for a moment to try and compose himself. 

He was sweating profusely, staining his grey t-shirt. His skin was burning despite the AC within the suit and he’d been ignoring pop-ups from FRIDAY about his elevated temperature for the past half hour. His bpm was slowly creeping up despite his blood pressure dropping, his mouth felt cold and dry and his lips were numb. What time was it? Four? That made it..eighteen hours without his Xarelto, or his Dipyridamole and he hadn’t had his Ramipril since- wait had he even packed that for the mission? Shit maybe it had been a few days without that- hmm. He’d remembered to take his Zebeta that morning though, so that was something at least, he still had  _ something  _ in his system. Nevermind he wasn’t telling anyone now, Bruce would kill him. 

It did occur to him that he was being ridiculous- of course it did. He was perfectly self aware thank you. He knew he should’ve just said he wasn’t feeling great, that he’d skipped his meds and needed to sit this one out. But that would mean the only other person with enough technical knowledge to handle taking down the droids, deactivating the bombs  _ and  _ wiping out their enemies communication systems- was Peter. If he had to leave, it would be down to the kid to be in the middle of the action, and while he knew the boy was more than capable he..he didn’t..he couldn’t do that. He knew that the rest of the guys would keep him safe but..he just couldn’t. 

He had to do this. 

Taking a deep breath Tony walked back over to the group. He’d hoped it would be a seamless transition, that he could slip over there quietly before they all assumed their positions; but no sooner than he shuffled towards them he felt a hand on his armoured arm. 

“Look, I know you’re gonna snap at me, but T seriously.” Nat said in her usual sharp tone, though her eyes were filled with concern. “You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah? Then stop fucking looking.” Tony said dryly, an automated asshole response that he didn’t have the ability to inhibit, despite the years of therapy. He sighed before trying to answer a bit more genuinely, not wanting to prove Nat right, but at the same time not wanting to hurt her feelings. And maybe it was time to tell  _ someone  _ that he was feeling a little...lightheaded. “I’m alright I just feel a little-“ 

They were interrupted by a car crashing into a neighbouring building, wiping Thor and Clint out with it as the building groaned and creaked. Before they knew it, armoured assailants clad in black leather (you know, the typical shit that made Tony roll his eyes) and futuristic looking tech (meh) were pouring in and they were in an all out brawl. Not exactly the covert in and out plan that Tony had. 

And that wasn’t the only thing that hadn't gone according to plan. Not only were the tasks he’d been given far more complicated than he’d originally anticipated (no he wasn’t  _ wrong,  _ Nick just hadn’t given him enough intel, a’ight?); and having to do them with blurred vision and blood rushing in his ears hadn’t made it any easier. In between having to fight people off of him, out of his way, all the time trying to look out for his kid (whom he hadn’t seen this whole time, by the way, which was certainly not helping the palpitations). He barely made it through cutting off their comms line with all his alarms blaring- especially when he had to manually override FRIDAY from trying to fly him home- or god forbid to a hospital. 

“On your right Man of Iron.” Thor called to him when Tony had turned his back for too long and was about to be ambushed. The god was having an absolute blast himself, relishing in the carnage. He and Tony fought back to back for a while when out of the corner of his eye the genius’ knees go weak. It was very brief, and Thor wasn’t the most observant creature but he saw it. A mere stumble for most but for the man who wore a suit of iron that stabilized his every movement it was entirely out of place. Thor tried to catch Tony’s gaze to assess his wellness but that was difficult when the man flipped his shield and they were in the middle of combat. Only once that wave of enemies was clear did they manage to catch a break, and by that point Tony was stumbling. “Anthony?” 

“I’m- fine.” Tony muttered as he shambled towards the wreckage of a car for temporary shelter. He was panting now as he lent against the crinkled car, unable to draw a solid breath, and a familiar numbness had befallen his left side. Try as he might when he went to raise his arm he couldn't, feeling the dead weight hang limply by his side, pulling heavily at his chest. Fuck. That wasn’t good. And neither was the brunette's face. When he lifted up his face plate in an attempt to get more air into his lungs his face was sheen with sweat and his lips were tinted blue. 

Thor didn’t say another thing, he simply wordlessly grabbed Tony, almost carrying him. He scooped him up before he had a chance to protest, leaving zero room for argument. Though for once perhaps Tony wouldn’t have attempted to argue, as even he knew not to go against the god when he was trying to help someone- even if that someone was him.

Rather than use his earpiece to call for backup, Thor employed his booming voice instead; calling towards their nearest compatriot. “Steven we have a problem!”

“What is it Thor, we’re kinda busy here ourselves?!” Steve called back, though he recognised the tone of Thor's voice and was jogging over to them before he responded. 

“Anthony has taken ill.” 

“What?” Steve’s jog quickly broke out into an all out sprint. When he rounded the corner, following Thor’s voice he saw Tony slumped against him. The bearded man was no longer supporting his own weight and despite the suit was starting to collapse. He was pale, ashen even, his eyes dark and his lips a startling shade of blue, now rimmed with purple. Steve immediately rushed over to him. “Oh god Tony what-“

“I’m fine, finish the fight.” Tony said weakly but with authority. It was hard to speak now that he could feel his arc periodically zapping him, and he still had FRIDAY blaring every possible alarm. That and it was getting kind of hard to think anyway. He didn’t feel panicked more just.. _ fuzzy.  _ It was familiar, he knew what it was, he knew it was oxygen deprivation but there wasn’t much he could do other than try to breathe deeply and focus. But focus on what? Steve did have rather pretty eyes- no no brain  _ not now,  _ the fight we have to finish the fight-

“But Tony your-“

“Finish the fight Steve!” Tony snapped before he drew in another gasping breath. 

Steve wanted to argue but he couldn’t, it was absolute chaos all around them. Even had he sent Thor to take Tony to safety through aerial means, they likely would’ve been shot down. There was no way to get him to help without going through the battlefield, and by the looks of him Tony wouldn’t have made it that far. 

The best Steve could do was give Thor basic instructions. They were all first aid trained of course so they had Tony in the recovery position, Thor ready to administer emergency chest compressions should he need to- but Tony protested. Thor wouldn’t only end up busting his arc and then he’d be really fucked. They needed their resident physician but Bruce had gone Hulk. Fuck. With Thor out of commission helping Tony, Steve had no choice but to rejoin the fight, they couldn’t afford to lose the man power. 

“Anthony my friend-“

“If I was your- f-friend you wouldn’t call me that, asshole.” Tony strained out between shaky breaths. He had to stay alert, he had to stay focused. God how had he let it go this far. This wasn’t meant to happen he shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have gone out in the field like..like this..what were they..what were they doing here? The fight, yeah the fight but, but why hadn’t he taken his pills at home? They hadn’t been at home this morning- where had they been? Fuck he was starting to lose it. 

“You need to stay awake.”

“I am awake.” Tony said snarkily, though he realised his eyes were closed. When he opened them he saw something horrifying. “Oh god.”

“What? What is it?!”

“There’s  _ two of you.”  _ Tony yelled, his vision doubling all the objects in front of him, including that big blond bastard. “Fuck I can barely handle one-  _ agh!” _

“Anthony?” Thor asked fretfully when Tony was cut off, and the man lurched forward again, only this time he fell still. “ _ Anthony?!”  _

Tony couldn’t answer. He felt a pang in his chest, a sudden snap of an elastic band breaking, sending his entire chest cavity on fire. He tried to grab at his chest but he couldn’t move his arms, his breaths coming out in short strangled puffs as he tried desperately to get his lungs to expand but they wouldn't. His vision was going dark at the edges and his ears were ringing with a high pitched whine. 

“STEVEN!” Thor bellowed as he pulled Tony up by his shoulders, sitting him up against the rubble. “You need to breathe my friend, please, you need to breathe-“

“I’m...trying..you...dumb...fuck.” Tony rasped out slowly, maintaining eye contact as he enunciated each syllable. 

“That’s it, as long as you’re insulting me I know you shall be fine, call me something else.” Thor encouraged him, though his pleas were unheeded. The brunette's eyes started fluttering and his grip on Thor's arms weakened. “Anthony you mustn’t succumb to this.” 

The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the panic that was starting to set in. He could hear his heartbeat slowing, the pounding in his ears weakening. This wasn’t good. Despite his arc's attempts to keep his heart going, it wasn’t working. Each zap was going ignored, sending ripples of pain through his chest but nothing else, his heart continued to stutter and pause- his arc needed a bit of help. 

Tony glanced down at Thor’s hands. Hm. That could work. If only he could find enough air in his lungs to convey that message. 

He gripped Thor’s arm, bringing the gods attention back to his face. He made intense eye contact with him as he drew out the words, painstakingly slowly. “Hit...me..”

Thor’s eyes widened. “What?”

Grunting slightly with frustration, Tony couldn’t find the energy to repeat himself. Instead he grabbed Thor’s hand and gestured to his chest, so the god didn’t get confused and accidentally slap him or something. He opened Thor’s palm and gestures for him to push his sternum. 

“Here? Are you sure?” Thor asked, a look of confusion present on his face. But Tony nodded- though Thor didn’t want to hurt him but did as he asked, aiming one swift blow below right below his arc. 

Tony lurched forward, managing to draw in a breath for the first time in two minutes. For a second Thor was hopeful as the colour momentarily returned to his friends cheeks; but his relief was short lived as Tony slipped unconscious mere seconds later. “Anthony?  _ Anthony?!”  _

Tony didn’t know how long the fight lasted. He remained blissfully unaware of the chaos surrendering him, or all the trouble he was causing as his friends battled enemies whilst simultaneously attempting to reach him. He could vaguely make out sounds, and occasionally shapes when he opened his eyes, but thus were just blurred colours. The screaming was indistinct, like he was listening to conversations whilst underwater. All he could focus on was the sounds of his own ragged breathing, and the slow, disjointed thump of his heartbeat, that was slowly getting quieter. 

But the fight couldn’t have been too long, because when he opened his eyes- able to keep them open this time- he could just about make out the faces of his teammates. He noticed Steve’s blond hair first, then he could make out Clint’s bow, still aimed and shooting at something above him. He couldn’t make out their speech at first could just hear Thor rushedly asking for help and everyone asking for Bruce. Nat was off chasing him down but they eventually were able rendezvous by Tony where he was half sprawled sitting up against the wall gripping his chest. 

The first distinct speech Tony could hear addressing him was Clint's worried voice. “Oh fuck- T what’s happening?!”

“I’m having a heart attack Barton, what does it look like? I know you’re slow but- argh-“ Tony groaned as his arc made another ditch attempt to keep his heart pumping. The fact that he was able to form speech let alone make it coherent was a miracle at this point, so he made sure to choose his words wisely. He made sure to keep up his persona. Well, after all, he didn’t want to worry them did he? “-try to keep up.”

Clint resisted the urge to punch him. Only Tony would insist on still being sarcastic even as he’s fucking dying. “I can see that dipshit, why isn’t your arc zapping you?”

“It is- agh- trust me it is-“ Tony assured him as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood- only he didn’t bleed. His heart wasn’t pumping hard enough for any blood to actually be forced from the wound and- oh fuck maybe this really was it. Maybe he’d pushed his luck one to many times and he- he was gonna fucking die. Great. Pepper was gonna be so pissed at him. “Mmmm-  _ fuck.” _

“Mr. Stark?”

“Oh good god- don’t let the kid over here!” Tony yelled, panic hitting him once he realised his kid was still out there. 

But it was too late. Before Steve could grab him he’d already ran over. Before they knew it the kid was at Tony’s side, ripping his own mask off and removing his mentor’s helmet. Surprisingly the kid didn’t seem all that panicked- well, okay he was  _ panicked  _ but he was calm and calculated in his movements. He removed Tony’s helmet before gently placing his head back down, checked his pulse and read the readings on the man's wrist plate detailing his condition. 

“Oh crap- okay- Uhm, gimme- gimme two seconds Mr. Stark- I’ll be right back!” Peter said quickly as he stood up again, his eyes darting back and forth. Before anyone could intervene he pulled his mask back on and went to scale the skyscraper they were seated next to. But before he went scampering off he pointed to Steve. “Steve, get him in the recovery position.”

The blond blinked, confused and stunned by the sudden change of tone. “What-“ 

“Just do it!”

Of course they all knew what to do anyway, they were medically trained and had dealt with Tony’s various antics many times before; but everyone was kind of stunned by the kid’s reaction. They’d expected him to break down crying or panic or- well not calmly reappears two minutes later with his- his school bag? 

Peter went digging through his rucksack and pulled out a small red pouch. As he rejoined Tony’s side he knelt down, pulling a small white bottle with a nozzle on it. 

“Open your mouth.” Peter instructed, but Tony couldn’t. He was already going into shock and his jaw had clenched. Peter nodded understandingly and gently pried his jaw open for him. “There, here we go, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Peter muttered calmly all the while, as he whipped off his mask again whilst he set about spraying the nitroglycerin under Tony’s tongue. His mentor managed a grimace but lacked any other sort of response- which was concerning. Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Do you need your pen?”

Tony managed to shake his head but couldn’t convey that he needed something else instead. Something he knew Peter would have on him but he hoped the kid would never have to witness- let alone use. Thankfully Peter managed to understand despite the lack of verbal or gestural instruction. 

“Adenosine?” He asked, his eyes going wide. 

Tony gave a tiny but present nod before the pain in his chest gripped him again and he was forced to shut his eyes, wincing in pain. 

“Okay- okay- Uhm- shit okay-“ Peter muttered under his breath. He was trying his best to stay calm but his hands were shaking as he fiddled with the package. He knew what to do, Tony and Bruce had shown him, but he’d never had to actually do it before. The situation had never been this dire- he certainly never expected to have to do it in the  _ field.  _ He kept the drugs in his backpack, sure, but he didn’t usually have his backpack with him when he was on call. Tony was lucky Happy had picked him up straight from school or he would’ve- he wouldn’t have-  _ don’t think about that, Peter, focus.  _ “FRIDAY can you- can you open the suit p-please?”

Tony’s suit sprang open, exposing the man’s sweat soaked t-shirt underneath and his arc that was..flashing. Peter had never seen it flash before. That didn’t seem good. Peter ripped his T-shirt a little, so he could lift up a hatch on his arc. Then he unsheathed the needle of adenosine and pushed the tip into the designated port, lining up his shot. Then he withdrew his arm, taking a deep breath to still his shaking hand before he counted Tony down. 

“Okay, on three- One, two-“ On three Peter plunged the needle into his chest, injecting the liquid, making Tony jump. His whole body shuddered and he groaned- the most movement Peter had seen him make since he discovered him. Despite having done exactly as he’d been previously instructed Peter immediately started to panic, muttering rushed apologies as Tony continued to convulse. “Oh god sorry! I’m really sorry I’m-“

“You’re good, kid.” Tony wheezed as he sat up to cough. The medication had given him a small adrenaline boost that he knew wouldn't last long so he made sure to use his breath for something important. “Twelve seconds remember? Like we practised.”

“I remember.” Peter nodded though his eyes were watering now. He was trying to stay calm, he was used to medical emergencies, but now that his part was over and it was down to Tony’s body to do the work, that familiar sense of helplessness was starting to wash over him. All he could do was watch as his mentor’s heart stopped and pray that it restarted on its own. Tony grabbed his hand, trying to calm him down too but he couldn’t be of much comfort as he slipped unconscious; his eyes rolling back as his body twitched.

Everyone watched silently, monitoring Peter’s cues and body language. They all knew what was going on, but the boy had taken control of the situation, they trusted he knew what he was doing and didn’t intervene. They were still waiting on backup- god only knew what was taking them so long- but no one dared say anything. No one even dared move. It was the longest twelve seconds of their lives. 

At least it should’ve only been twelve seconds, but after twelve seconds Tony didn’t take in a sharp breath. He didn’t open his eyes. His arc didn’t stop whirring and zapping. He, he wasn’t- no.

Peter sat up on his heels, letting go of Tony’s hand only to start feeling at his neck for a pulse again. He placed a hand under his nose and sure enough he couldn’t feel any rush of air. Tony’s lips were turning blue again and before he knew it Peter found himself screaming. “Fuck fuck  _ fuck-“ _

Finally everyone moved, each of them ready to jump in to follow the boys instruction. Steve was the first to fall to his knees across from the boy. “Peter what do you-“

“Help!” Peter cried desperately. This wasn’t meant to happen, this wasn’t the plan, Tony was meant to wake up- that’s what the medicine for- he- that’s what they’d told him! He’d done what they’d told him but it- it wasn’t working he had to- he had to do CPR but he could- he  _ couldn’t do that!  _ And he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate either, he was too flustered, he needed  _ help.  _ “I can’t- with his arc in the way I don’t wanna break it I-“. 

“Scootch.” Came a voice from behind him and it took a second for him to realise was Nat. Thankfully despite his broken rambling she understood what he meant; that Peter didn’t want to damage his arc or the man’s ribs with his super strength. So she stepped in to do the chest compressions. But even with the assistance of the rhythmic pumping, the man’s condition didn’t seem to change. He didn’t move other than from pressure from Nat’s hands, he didn’t draw his own breath, his eyes didn’t even flutter. 

Shaking, Peter pulled off one of his gloves and placed a hand on Tony’s forehead. It was clammy and..cold. 

No. No, Tony, not like this. You promised. 

Everyone was motionless, silent, frozen with anticipation as the same thought washed over each of them. It was obvious Nat was thinking the same thing but she didn’t stop the chest compressions, she wouldn’t stop until someone dragged her away. The rest of them watched on, unable to do anything else, waiting with baited breath for a verdict to be reached. Either Tony was going to wake up or...he wasn’t. 

Just as it seemed the latter was more likely, Tony sat up with a start. Out of seemingly nowhere he sat up bolt upright, almost knocking Nat over as he drew in a harsh lung full of air, his eyes wide. For a split second it looked as though he was going to start swinging as he reacclimated to his surroundings.

Everyone immediately sagged with relief. In tandem each of them finally drew a breath of their own, having been holding it the entire time. Steve covered his face as he started crying and laughing simultaneously, Thor was leaning wobbly against a neighbouring building and Clint stood there staring a hole through him, still frozen though he was panting with the rest of them. Nat managed to sit back on her heels, panting too though she had a smile on her face, leaning against Peter as the boy had caught her when she was shoved. 

Peter. 

Shit. 

Tony looked around to see his kid, white as a fucking sheet and shaking, studying him with calculated eyes as though the boy didn’t quite believe what was going on. Like he was trying to assess that his mentor wasn’t a zombie or something- and he didn’t look convinced. That or he could’ve, you know, just been traumatised. 

For a second everyone was silent, just relishing in the relief that Tony hadn’t gone and fucking died on them- but it was the man himself who finally broke it. He cleared his throat that was tight and dry, as he clapped a still numb hand on his ward’s shoulder. “Phew thanks kiddo.” 

Peter blinked a couple times, like he was surprised at his boss’s casualness- but that quickly faded. Of course Tony would go back to smirking only seconds after waking up from a literal  _ heart attack.  _ Peter couldn’t bring himself to articulate his disbelief, or anything really, he just brought himself to ask a very basic question; that most definitely required an answer. He gripped onto the hand Tony had placed on his shoulder with both of his as he asked; “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Fri says I’m all good. Just had to do an ol’ factory reboot, see? I’m fine” Tony shrugged. FRIDAY wasn’t exactly saying that, his oxygen levels were still dangerously low and he needed a good dose of drugs when he got back but he was.. _ stable  _ at least. And he certainly felt more stable. But he wasn’t concerned about himself, he was concerned about the fact he’d just subjected Peter to- well all that. “You did good buddy.”

“W-w-what happened? Why d-didn’t your arc work- did it get hit? Is it broken?” Peter stammered out in an anxious rush as he inspected the device; running his hands all over the arc trying to detect damage. 

Tony chuckled lowly and grabbed the boy's hands to still them. “No, it’s fine, I just didn’t take my meds.”

Then the entire group erupted in a chorus angry “Tony!”’s that for some inexplicable reason made Tony feel right at home- though he was quick to defend himself. 

“Blame Barton for rushing me.” Tony shrugged with a smirk before he fell back again. The adrenaline rush was weining, and whilst he didn’t feel as though he was going to pass out again he was still feeling decidedly weak. A nap wouldn’t hurt right about now. Or maybe a small coma, you know, just to recharge the batteries. 

“That’s what you were looking for?!” Clint gawked, his disbelief dissolving quickly into anger. “You fucking idiot Tony!”

“I’m the idiot?! Maybe you shouldn’t have made fun of me you stupid prick!” Tony yelled back angrily only his words didn’t have nearly as much bite as he would’ve liked when he immediately dissolved into coughing again. He fell forward as his chest constricted again, falling right into Peter’s arms which was more than a little humbling. 

“You coulda just said you were looking for your meds you fucking asshole!” Clint barked. 

“But then we would’ve missed out on all the fun.” Tony chuckled. He didn’t have the energy to argue, and though he would never admit it, he knew he was in the wrong on this one. And it felt rotten, especially since it had happened in front of the kid. The kid who’s eyes looked a little shiny though he was doing his best to keep up appearances in front of the adults. Tony’s gaze softened as he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders, Peter immediately melting into the hug. Tony could feel him shaking, holding back tears, and for the first time he felt guilt wash over him for doing something detrimental to his own health. He finally realised that his lack of self care actually affected those around him more than he cared to admit. “I’m sorry buddy, I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Mhm.” Peter sniffled softly, quickly wiping his face on his sleeve so when their hug broke no one would see the stray tears. He pulled back, flashing Tony a brave smile before pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I think I’m gonna go throw up.”

“You do that, bud.” Tony nodded, clapping a hand on the boy’s arm as he stood up. He watched Peter stumble round the corner with his hand over his mouth, unable to follow him. He sighed. “Thor can you-“

“I’ve got him. I think I may vomit also.” Thor nodded as he shakily went after him. Had Tony not felt so guilty for being the cause, he would’ve found it rather amusing how flustered the god was. He’d never seen him so shaken. 

After a while Tony felt strong enough to attempt to stand. The rest of them had just been sitting around anyway and he was getting bored- besides he wanted to get this show on the road so he could go home. When he moved to get up though he was met with a pair of blue eyes boring into him.

“No, don’t. You need to rest for a minute.” Steve said fretfully as he stepped forward to grab Tony’s arm when he stumbled slightly. 

“Oh lighten up Rogers, it’s just a little baby heart attack, you think you’d never seen a man die before.” He chuckled but his legs gave out again and he leaned on the man for support. Well that was, once again, more than a little humbling. “I’m fine.”

“Bruce is going to kill you.” Steve sighed tiredly looking down at Tony where the man was scowling up at him, still leaning against his chest. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Came another voice. Peter was back earlier than expected, chugging a bottle of water and wiping the remnants of his lunch off of his chin. He went from looking frightened to looking pissed. 

Tony smiled at him. “Hi, how was your puke?”

“Fantastic, how was your heart attack?” Peter scowled as he wandered back over, shifting Tony’s other side onto his shoulder so both he and Steve were supporting his trek back to the van. So much for waiting for help to arrive. “Forgot to take your meds, huh?”

Tony scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

“You're meant to set an example.” Peter quipped back. 

“Kid if you’re looking to me to set an example Your life is gonna be  _ fuuucked~”  _ Tony laughed, feeling more than a little spacey from his little stint with death. Maybe it was the oxygen deprivation but he wasn’t in any pain, he didn’t feel panicked anymore. Other than feeling guilty for upsetting everyone he felt perfectly fine. Well, fine as someone who’d just had a heart attack and had his sternum broken- thanks Nat- could feel. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” Peter mumbled quietly, still in shock. 

“How’d the fight go after I, you know, fucked everything up?”

“Don’t worry old man, I finished up the job for ya. You’re lucky I was here.” Peter grinned. 

“Yes I am.” Tony said seriously. He listened as Peter and the others recounted the details of the fight he’d missed; and quite frankly he was glad he’d skipped out (albeit a little later than he should have but meh). And he had to admit, he was rather impressed at how seamlessly Peter had taken over his role as the resident tech fucker-upper. “You got any candy in that backpack of yours?” 

Peter nodded, of course he did, who did Tony think he was? He even had a pack of Tony’s favourites as part of his emergency bag. He had all the essentials, basic first aid, life saving medication and emergency treats. 

“You’re hungry after that?” Steve asked incredulously as Tony stuffed a handful of sour gummy worms in his mouth. 

“What? No, that spray just tastes like shit.” Tony shrugged. “Thanks kid. I owe you.” 

Peter sighed. “Don’t mention it. Or better yet- just don’t do it again.” 

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t sure what to tag this with- also please let me know if this needs any further trigger warnings!


End file.
